Typically Tracy
by Silver Bee
Summary: It was such a simple task: fly to Kansas, pick up Grandma, fly home. What could possibly go wrong?


_Nothing belongs to me, I'm just playing with the characters. It's my thirteenth story - and the unlucky Tracy this time is Scott!_

_This story is set just before the epilogue of 'Broken'._

"How's it going, Scott?"

Scott sighed, counted to ten, then reached for his radio.

"Everything's fine, Virg." _Just like it was when you asked me two minutes ago. And two minutes before that..._

"What was that?"

Scott bit back a groan, realising he must have spoken his thoughts aloud.

"Nothing, Virgil."

"I could have sworn I heard something. Maybe you've got a problem with the radio. I'll ask Johnny to-"

"Virgil, shut up!"

"That's nice. I'm only looking out for you, big brother, making sure you're okay. You know, like you've been doing with me for the past couple of hours."

Scott ran a weary hand over his eyes and gave in. "Overkill, huh?" He couldn't see his brother's face, but the smile was there in his voice as Virgil replied,

"Just a little. Honestly, Scott, I wish you'd learn to switch off once in a while. Alan and I had it all under control. Anyway, Dad and John were keeping an eye on us. Your calls were just a distraction."

"Sorry. It's hard to let go."

"I know. But you should give it a try, especially when there are more important things to think about. How's she handling?"

"Like a dream." Scott's voice lost its seriousness. "You'll love her, Virg."

"When do I get to fly her?"

"Not for a while. This one's all mine. I spent long enough restoring her."

"_You_ did? Who did the wiring?"

"Okay, you helped."

"And what about Brains? Don't tell me you don't appreciate the upgrades to the engines?"

"I do. It's nice to be able to fly more than a few thousand miles without the hassle of refuelling."

"I'm guessing you like the extra speed, too?"

"It's a bonus," Scott agreed. "But apart from your help with the wiring and Brains' work on the engine-"

"Don't forget Johnny's radio."

"_Virg!_ Despite all that, she's mine, okay? Mine. _ I_ rescued her from the junkyard,_ I_ spent a year tracking down all the parts, _I_ did most of the work."

"Who painted her? That detailing didn't do itself, you know."

"Look, I'm not above seeking a little help from the experts, okay? But I'm the expert when it comes to flying. She's mine. Maybe I'll let you have a go when I get home. Maybe..."

"How long till you reach Kansas?"

"Couple of hours. I'm enjoying the flight too much to really push her. This is how flying's meant to be, Virg. No computers, no sophisticated autopilot, just man and machine and the open skies."

Virgil laughed. "You know, Grandma might not appreciate it quite as much as you do. There were probably better ways to get her home."

"One was -"

"She hates flying in One." Virgil swiftly dismissed that idea. "But I could have gone in Two. She loves Two."

Scott refused to be drawn into an argument - especially one he knew he wasn't going to win. Thunderbird One might have been the fastest craft in the International Rescue fleet, but a flight in her was never a particularly comfortable one for passengers, and especially not for elderly ladies with new hips. "She'll love this baby, Virg. It used to be owned by a movie star, remember. The cabin's the height of luxury - at least, luxury as it was fifty years ago. Our grandmother's coming home in style. Anyway..."

Virgil paused for a moment to allow his brother to finish. When nothing else was forthcoming he prompted,

"What?"

Scott chuckled softly. "What I was going to say was that even if I'd let you go there's no guarantee you'd get her back without running into trouble."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Virg, last time you were in Kansas you got chased by a bull."

"Ah, well... what's life without a little excitement?"

"Grandma needs peace and quiet, not excitement."

"So that's why you volunteered - you don't trust me." Virgil sounded quite affronted.

"Not just you, Virg. I don't trust any of you."

"Thanks. Wait till I tell the guys."

"Well, think about it. Every visit to Kansas ends in some kind of drama. There was you and that bull..."

"Could have happened to anyone."

"It happened to _you_. Then John got arrested."

"Mistaken identity."

"Alan got chased by a dog."

"Good old Benny. Great judge of character."

"Don't be mean."

"You done?"

"No. I'm hardly going to forget about Gordon getting stuck down that well."

"You know how much he loves the water."

"Sixteen hours, Virgil... No, on balance, I think I'm best placed to ensure that my grandmother has an uneventful journey back to Tracy Island."

"Tempting fate a bit there, aren't you, Scotty? Maybe it's your turn."

"I don't believe in fate, Virg. I'll show you kids how it's done. Live and learn."

Virgil laughed. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you. You be careful out there, Scott."

"You just concentrate on bringing that bird of yours back to Base. How far out are you?"

"Two minutes."

"Shouldn't you be focusing on the landing procedure?"

"I'm doing it! Honestly, Scott, relax. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well. I'm signing off. I'd hate you to smash into the house because you were too busy chatting to me."

There was no audible answer, but Scott didn't need one - he could picture the indignant look his brother would be wearing right about now.

"Take care, Virg," he said. "Safe landing."

"You too, Scott. Have a good flight. Give Grandma my love and tell her I've missed her."

"We all have." Scott signed off with a smile and turned his attention back to the classic plane he was flying. As he'd reminded Virgil, it had been a labour of love over the past year to restore her to her former glory. This was the first long flight he'd taken in her and he was loving every minute of it.

He knew his grandmother would be pleased to see the plane finished, knowing how hard he'd worked on it. Although he suspected that even if he had turned up in One she wouldn't have been too unhappy. Every conversation recently had revealed just how desperate she was to come home. She had been living in the family house in Kansas for the past two months following her surgery. Under normal circumstances she'd have come back to Tracy Island to convalesce, but things were far from normal on the island these days and so, without Tin-Tin there to help out, she'd opted to remain in Kansas with a couple of nurses to take care of her. She'd rejected her son's offer to bring someone to the island - he had a young agent who was more than qualified - on the grounds that it wasn't fair to the girl to expose her to several hyper-competitive grandsons who had been starved of female company for months on end. The boys had protested, but she hadn't believed a word of it when they'd promised to leave the girl alone. Jeff had accepted that she had a point, and so she'd remained in Kansas, where two stern middle-aged ladies who held absolutely no attraction for any of her boys, had done a sterling job in getting her up and about again.

Two hours later, Scott came safely in to land, pleased to see his grandmother waiting at the end of the runway. She might have leaned heavily on her walking stick as she slowly made her way towards the plane, but it was clear to see that she was far more mobile than she'd been for a long time.

"Hi, Grandma!" he said, jumping down the steps and hurrying to meet her.

"It's so good to see you," she replied, enveloping him in a hug for a moment before pushing him away and taking a good look at him. "You look well," she said, finally.

"I'm fine," Scott smiled. "We all are. We missed you and your cooking, but Kyrano took good care of us."

"That poor man," Grandma mused. "I'll be glad to get home and give him a hand again."

"You don't need to do anything, Grandma," Scott told her. "You can just sit back and relax and let us look after you. We can handle things, honestly. We've all helped out around the house, even Dad."

"I'm not going to be sitting around doing nothing, Scott," Grandma said sharply. "You can tell the others right now that I'm fighting fit and I'll be doing my bit to keep International Rescue going. And that starts with making sure you boys are well-fed and nicely turned-out. Look at you!" She reached out to tweak Scott's collar, tutting as she did so. "I'll start with the laundry, I think."

"Grandma..."

"No, Scott."

"But we wanted to spoil you for a while."

Grandma couldn't help smiling at the wistful note in her eldest grandson's voice. "Well, maybe for a couple of days, just while I'm settling in. It'll give you all a chance to get your rooms in order. I hate to think what mess I'm going to find."

Scott quickly changed the subject. "Talking of settling in, how's the new house?"

Grandma turned to look at the building behind her. "It's alright, Scott. The builders did a good job. It's a lot more modern than the old place, that's for sure. But it's not the same. I miss my old home."

"Nothing's the same anymore..." Scott joined his grandmother in gazing at the new house. They were both lost in memories for a while before Grandma shook herself and began to move forward, informing him that dinner was nearly ready.

"Want a hand?" Scott asked, scurrying along beside her.

"No, dear, I can manage. My hip's as good as new."

"Race you then?" Scott grinned, then dodged out of the way as his grandmother raised her walking stick.

"I'll be glad when you're rid of that thing," he told her. It had been funny watching his brothers catch the occasional rap when they'd annoyed the old lady, but it wasn't so amusing when he was on the receiving end.

"Me too, darling. Me too."

Scott had to admit that his grandmother had lost none of her talents in the kitchen. She'd prepared all his favourites and he appreciated the gesture more than ever, having missed her cooking over the past couple of months. Even better, there were no brothers around to take a share of it. An hour after landing he was sprawled out in one of the living room chairs wondering how long it would be before he'd be able to move again.

"What's the plan, then?" he asked.

"Well, I don't want to hang around," Grandma said. "I need to go into town first thing in the morning to pick up a few things, then I'll be ready to go."

"Sounds good," Scott told her. "We'll be home for dinner."

"That will be lovely. Now then, darling, what's been happening while I've been away? I don't suppose you've heard from Penelope?"

_"Grandma..."_

* * *

The next morning, after one of Grandma's legendary Kansas breakfasts - Scott thought that if she was trying to convince him she was up to the job of taking care of her family once more, it was certainly working - the pair left for town. True to her word, Grandma didn't hang about and within an hour the car was loaded up with supplies and they were preparing to head for home.

"Now then, I just need to call in to the bank," Grandma said, pulling out her purse.

"Grandma, you don't need money on the island."

"I know, dear. But it never hurts to have a little spare cash and I want to give the caretaker a good tip."

"Fair enough." Scott slowed as they approached their destination. "I can't see a parking space. I'll drop you off and drive round the block."

"That's fine, dear. I shouldn't be too long."

Scott knew his grandmother's definition of _not too long_ - she was bound to run into a friend or two along the way and, given that she wouldn't see them again for some time, she'd want to have a good chat and make sure she was up to date with the very latest gossip before she left. Deciding he had at least fifteen minutes, he pulled into a space he found around the corner and put in a call to Virgil, savouring his brother's envious expression when he heard all about the meals Grandma had prepared.

"It's all going according to plan, Virg," Scott said, preparing to start the car up once again. "No wells, no bulls. I'll call you when we're ready to leave."

"Don't speak too soon," Virgil laughed. "You've still got a couple of hours to get yourself in trouble."

"I think you guys need to be more worried about that," Scott told him, passing on Grandma's promise to get the house in order. "Better get the dust cloths out, Virg - you know the piano will be the first place she'll look."

"There's no dust on my piano," Virgil assured him. "What she'll make of your gym equipment on the other hand..."

"Who dusts a treadmill anyway?" Scott sighed. "Do me a favour Virg and give it a going-over for me."

"What's it worth?"

"I'll let you fly my plane."

There was the briefest of pauses before Virgil agreed. "See you later, Scott," he said before ending the transmission.

Satisfied that all would be in order on Tracy Island by the time he got home, Scott drove back to the bank. Sure enough there was no sign of his grandmother, though this time he was able to find a space nearby and he pulled in and waited. Just a minute or so later she emerged from the building, as he'd expected, deep in conversation with an old lady he didn't recognise.

It all happened so quickly that Scott barely had time to process what he was seeing before he'd leapt out of the car and was charging down the street towards his grandmother. The teenage boy who'd casually zipped past him on a skateboard just seconds before, had hold of the old woman's bag and was doing his best to pull it away from her. He'd reckoned without the steely determination of Ruth Tracy, however. The walking stick he'd clearly interpreted as a sign of weakness was being used to good effect against him, and the other old lady was doing her bit, too, battering him with her purse. By the time Scott reached them the boy had clearly decided enough was enough, letting go of Grandma's bag and making to run off. It came as a complete surprise when Scott barrelled into him, knocking him to the ground and landing hard on top of him.

But Scott had a surprise of his own when the boy put up more of a fight against him than he had against Grandma and her friend. He might not have had a problem with stealing their money, but it seemed he wasn't prepared to hit old women, something Scott was more than thankful for. The boy had no such scruples when it came to hitting Scott, however, and the pair wrestled around on the ground for a minute or so before Grandma reached them and let loose with her stick once more.

Unfortunately for Scott, Grandma's aim was off and he took more than a few cracks himself as he worked to subdue the thief. By the time a police car screamed to a halt beside the pair, he was battered and bruised and more than happy to let the two policemen take over.

"Well," Grandma breathed, watching the boy being shoved into the patrol car. "Who would have believed something like that would happen? This town's not what it used to be."

Scott rotated his shoulder tentatively. He'd landed on it when he'd hit the ground, then Grandma had compounded the damage with her stick. She noticed his wince of pain and immediately started to fuss.

"I'm fine, Grandma," Scott insisted. "Just a bruise. It's nothing to worry about."

"Should we get a doctor to take a look?" Grandma asked.

"_No!_ Of course not. Let's just give our statements to the police and get out of here, shall we?" He began to usher her back towards the car.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure." A thought suddenly struck him and he stopped mid-stride.

"Scott? Something _is_ wrong."

"No, Grandma. Everything's fine. It's just..."

"What, dear?"

"Just... promise me you won't tell Virgil - at least not until after we get home."

Promising her heroic grandson that she'd do anything he asked - he had come to her rescue after all, even though she was convinced she'd have eventually seen her attacker off herself - Grandma allowed Scott to escort her back to the car. The Tracy name carried enough weight in town to ensure that there was no hanging around at the police station and within half an hour they were making their way back to the house.

An hour after that they were airborne, with Grandma in raptures over Scott's beloved plane. She'd ignored his suggestion that she make herself comfortable in the cabin, preferring to sit in the cockpit with her grandson. Scott was delighted, making the most of the opportunity to point out every last detail of the craft.

"Apart from the tweaks to the engine to get more speed and mileage out of her, I've kept her as authentic as possible," he told her. "Take the autopilot, for example. These days you can put a plane on auto and she'll even land herself, but my girl needs me to guide her home. It's much more fun, Grandma - there's no skill in flying most modern planes. That's why I love One so much - not many people could keep her in the air, let alone land."

Grandma murmured an appropriate comment about being proud of her grandson's flying skills. Truth be told, she didn't really have much idea of what Scott was going on about, having never taken much interest in planes, but if it made him happy to talk, she was more than content to listen. Eventually, though, her mind drifted back to that morning's events.

"Grandma?"

She came back to reality with a start, realising that she'd been unaware of Scott's words for some time.

"Sorry, Scott," she said. "I was just thinking about what happened this morning. How's your shoulder?"

"It's fine." Well, it wasn't really, but Scott had never been one to make a fuss. Anyway, it was just a bruise: painful and annoying, but nothing to get excited about. Before his grandmother could say any more, he changed the subject. "Do we have to tell Virgil?"

"That's twice you've asked me that. What's going on with you two?"

With a sheepish grin, Scott told her what his brother had said. Grandma laughed, telling him that Virgil had a point.

"He's never going to let me live it down," Scott sighed.

"Well, I suppose you can blame me," Grandma told him. "Don't worry, darling, I won't let your brother tease you - too much!"

"Thanks, Grandma." Scott didn't sound particularly grateful. Then a thought struck him and he smiled.

"Here, take the co-pilot's helm," he said, putting the plane onto autopilot for a moment and swivelling his seat around to face his grandmother.

"What?"

"Come on, Grandma."

"Now Scott, you know I don't like to fly. Your father tried numerous times to teach me when he was your age but I never took to it."

"You don't have to fly, Grandma. Not for more than a minute, anyway. Go on, I'm right here with you."

"No, Scott."

"Please?" Scott didn't do the puppy-dog look often, but it didn't mean it wasn't very effective when he did. As he'd known she would, Grandma crumbled instantly, reluctantly reaching out to take the yoke.

"There you go," he said, disengaging the autopilot and trying not to smile as Grandma's whole body tensed. "Relax, Grandma, you're doing fine. You don't have to do anything, just keep her steady."

"Scott, I don't like this. Take her back, please."

Grandma sounded genuinely scared and Scott immediately did as she asked.

"It's okay," he said. "I've got her. You did great, Grandma."

"I don't know why you made me do that," Grandma muttered. "I didn't enjoy it."

"No, but I'm going to enjoy seeing the look on Virg's face when he finds out you've flown this plane and he hasn't. It'll be one small scrap of comfort amidst the ragging he'll give me."

With that, he settled back down to fly and the next hour passed peacefully.

"How much longer till we reach Tracy Island?" Grandma asked.

"Why? Do you want another go?"

"No."

Scott smiled. "About an hour. I'm getting as much speed out of her as I can - it's the first time I've pushed her to her limit."

"Come in, Scott." The radio crackled into life.

"No video," Scott commented. "John might have given it a bit more range, but apart from that it's completely authentic."

He reached out to flip a switch. "Hey, Johnny. How's it going?"

"Good, Scott. All quiet. Hi, Grandma."

"Hello, darling. Are you up in Thunderbird Five?"

"No, I'm back on the island. Wouldn't miss your homecoming. Five's on auto for a couple of days."

Grandma was thrilled at the prospect of being reunited with all her grandsons.

"Just wanted to warn you that there's bad weather ahead. You'll be running into some turbulence soon," John told his brother. "Think that antique of yours can cope with it?"

"She'll do just fine," Scott replied. "But thanks for the heads-up. I'll take it easy - wouldn't want my passenger having anything less than a smooth flight."

Signing off, he kept a smile on his face as he reassured his grandmother that everything was going to be fine. In reality, however, he couldn't help wishing conditions were going to stay as good as they were right now - his shoulder had been growing steadily more painful and the prospect of having to strain to keep the plane steady in the face of strong winds didn't appeal at all. Still, there was nothing else to be done - they were over open water with no airfields for hundreds of miles, plus any detour would just add to their journey time, putting even more strain on his shoulder. He'd promised his grandmother they'd be back on Tracy Island for dinner and he wasn't going back on his word.

A thought struck him and he flipped the autopilot on for a moment.

"Where are you going?" Grandma asked.

"To make us a coffee," he told her.

"I'll do it," Grandma said, starting to rise from her seat. Scott put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Stay right there, Grandma. You're being looked after for a couple of days, remember. Won't be a minute."

With that, he slipped through the door and into the cabin.

Making the coffee didn't take long, but that wasn't the only thing he needed to do. With a nervous glance back at the door he fished his grandmother's bag out from under the seat where she'd stowed it. He'd watched her throw a few final things into it before they'd left Kansas and sure enough he soon found exactly what he was looking for. He wouldn't usually seek pain relief voluntarily, but his shoulder really was troubling him now and he wasn't above taking the sensible option - especially when no one else had to know about it. He hated to think how much his grandmother would fuss if she knew what he was up to, not to mention the fact that she'd tell his father and brothers and he wouldn't get a minute's peace. Even Brains would get in on the act - there would be x-rays and numerous tests and all for nothing. It was just a bruise.

Snapping open a bottle and shaking out two of the white pills, he dry-swallowed them before replacing the bottle and putting the bag back where he'd found it. The pills were generic low-grade painkillers, a type he'd had numerous times before. There would be no ill-effects, he'd just be in a lot more comfort for the rest of the flight.

"Here you go, Grandma," he said, handing her a cup of coffee and taking a sip of his own before disengaging the autopilot and taking control himself.

The pills certainly seemed to be working as the pain began to dull. Biting back a yawn, Scott rubbed his eyes.

"Tired, sweetheart?"

He yawned again. "I'm-"

"Fine, I know." Grandma rolled her eyes. "As if you'd say anything else."

"Really. 'M fine."

"Scott?"

"Huh?" Scott blinked, vaguely aware that it wasn't just his shoulder that had less feeling. Everything did.

"Scott! Are you alright?"

Grandma's voice seemed to be coming from a long way away, but as hard as he tried, Scott couldn't say anything in response. His eyes kept closing and his thought processes became sluggish. He knew this wasn't good, but he couldn't do anything about it. His hands slipped from the yoke and he felt himself slumping forward.

_"Scott!"_

As the plane went into a dive, Scott finally gave in to unconsciousness.

* * *

"Scott? _Scott!_"

It wasn't so much the voice that got through to him as the slap across the face that accompanied it.

"Don' hit me, Gran'ma" he mumbled, doing his best to get back to the peaceful rest he'd been enjoying for who knew how long.

"Scott, I swear, if you don't wake up..."

A stab of pain as his shoulder was harshly shaken had him briefly snapping back to wakefulness, just long enough for him to take in the sight of the Tracy family lounge, but the sunlight hurt his eyes and he closed them again, drifting back towards oblivion despite the efforts of those around him to wake him. He was vaguely aware of more shaking and slapping and the babble of familiar voices calling his name, but he ignored them. Right now all he wanted to do was sleep, and if a man couldn't do that in the comfort of his own home...

_Home?_

Scott's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, but this time he wasn't in the lounge, he was in the infirmary.

"Oh, thank goodness. Darling, how are you?"

"Grandma?" Scott looked in bewilderment at the old lady who sat beside his bed, one hand clutching his whilst the other held a handkerchief to her reddened eyes. She'd clearly been crying and, realising that he'd been the cause, he felt incredibly guilty.

"Told you it wouldn't go according to plan."

"Virg?" Scott turned to his brother, then did a double-take at the sight of him in swim shorts, a towel slung around his neck and his hair sticking out in all directions. "Look at the state of you."

"You can talk." Virgil seemed to relax a little as Scott showed that he was capable of coherent speech and thought.

"What happened, son?" His father was there too. In fact, now Scott looked around him properly, he could see that the room was crowded with his entire family along with Brains and Kyrano, all looking concerned. It made sense that they'd be there to take care of him when he was sick, but Scott just wished he could remember why he'd ended up in the infirmary in the first place. Racking his brains, he couldn't remember anything after flying his grandmother home from Kansas.

"I don't remember," he admitted.

"You must have hit your head when you tackled that boy!" Grandma exclaimed. "I blame myself. I should have made you see a doctor."

"I didn't hit my head, Grandma," Scott told her. "Honestly. I just bruised my shoulder."

"Well a bruised shoulder wouldn't make you pass out in the cockpit of your plane," his father said. "Brains, you need to run a full range of tests and-"

"I passed out?" Scott stared at his father. "In the plane?" Grandma's hold on his hand became even tighter and he realised that she wasn't just crying out of fear for him. The woman had clearly been terrified for her life - both their lives.

"Grandma?" he asked. "Did you land her?"

Grandma sniffed and managed a smile. "No, darling. It was all I could do to pull you away from the controls and level her off. Thank goodness you'd let me have a go at flying her otherwise I'd have had no idea what to do. I tried to call for help but I couldn't get the radio working. Why you couldn't have had a nice ordinary one that I actually knew how to operate... I had to get your watch off and call the island."

"I don't think I've ever been so scared when I've taken a call for help," John admitted, coming to sit on the end of the bed. "Dad talked Grandma through setting the autopilot and I ran to get Virg."

"I was swimming," Virgil said, somewhat unnecessarily.

"So you had to rescue me?" Scott asked slowly. As grateful as he was, he knew he'd never live this one down.

"Yep. I don't think I've ever launched Two so fast. By the time I got to you you'd hit the storm."

"I really thought my time had come," Grandma said, her hand going to her heart. "But I was more worried about you, Scott. Once Virgil arrived I knew he'd get us home, but whether you'd survive..."

"It's okay, Grandma," Scott said gently. "It's over now. I'm okay." He turned to Virgil. "You used the grabs?"

"Yeah. Took a couple of goes - that plane was bouncing about like crazy. But I got her in the end, then Grandma cut the engines and I brought you home."

"You'd better not have scuffed the paintwork," Scott said, narrowing his eyes at his brother, who flatly refused to be intimidated.

"I'll touch her up. Not that you're going to be flying her for a while. Not until we work out what's wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"So why did you pass out?" his father asked. "Tell me everything you remember, Scott."

"There's nothing to tell, Dad. My shoulder was hurting so I thought I'd take some of Grandma's pain medication, then the next thing I know I'm waking up here on the island. But it couldn't have been the pills, I've taken them before. They- Grandma? What is it?"

The old lady had gone white, and for a moment the other people in the room thought they were going to witness a second collapse. Alan and Gordon rushed to steady her before making room for Brains as he pushed through to take a look at her.

"I'm alright," she insisted, though her usually steady tones were weak and trembling. "Scott, darling, I'm so sorry. I could have killed you. It's all my fault."

"Your fault, Grandma?"

"Yes. Those pills... They're sleeping pills."

_"Sleeping pills?"_

Grandma sniffed into her handkerchief before continuing. "Yes. They gave them to me after my surgery but I've never liked taking the things. The nurses insisted, so instead of getting into an argument every night I just pretended to take them. I put them in an empty bottle that had held my pain pills. You know how much I hate waste. I thought Brains might be able to use them."

Jeff leaned back with a relieved sigh. He wanted to comfort his mother, but she was surrounded by grandsons and he knew he wouldn't be able to get close for a while.

"So I'm okay," Scott said happily. "It's alright, Grandma, don't upset yourself. Everything worked out fine in the end."

"It just proves my point," Virgil said, giving the old lady a hug. "Tracys can't do anything without causing chaos."

"You might be right, dear." Grandma managed a feeble smile.

"Hey, Grandma," Gordon said, desperate to cheer up the old lady. "Now we've all proved we can get into trouble back home, who's going to take you for your check-up next month?"

There was an immediate chorus of volunteers from all the other brothers, Scott included.

"I believe that will be my job." Jeff Tracy's authoritative voice broke through the babble. "You boys may well be more than capable of handling rescue situations, but I clearly can't trust any of you with the simple tasks. Brains, would you give Scott a final check over - just in case. Don't look at me like that, Scott, I just want to be sure. Now then, the rest of you come away and leave the boy in peace. Kyrano, how about some coffee?"

As the infirmary door slid shut, everyone but Virgil having obeyed Jeff's instructions to leave, Scott grudgingly lay back and allowed Brains to take his blood pressure. "You okay, Grandma?" he asked. The woman hadn't left his side.

"I will be," she said. "Scott, I really am sorry."

"It's okay. Like Virg said, these things happen. If you really want to make it up to me you can bake one of your special chocolate cakes - just for me."

The smug look Virgil had been wearing on hearing Scott admit he'd been right was wiped out at the thought of missing out on cake.

"It's a deal." Grandma smiled and got carefully to her feet. She was just reaching for her stick when a sudden crash and a yell from outside made her start.

"Watch the step, Dad!" Alan's voice rang out clearly, followed by some muffled grumbling from his father.

"It runs in the family alright," Scott laughed.

"It certainly seems that way," Grandma agreed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "I'll make a start on that baking."

"Be careful, Grandma," Virgil said. "It might be your turn to fall victim to the curse of the Tracys. _Ow!"_

His grandmother returned her stick to its proper use, resting her weight on it as she glared at her grandson. "Don't say things like that, Virgil," she admonished.

"Sorry," Virgil mumbled, rubbing his shin. Once his grandmother had gone he looked back at his brother.

"Ever thought what life would be like if you hadn't been born a Tracy?"

"Yeah," Scott admitted. "A lot different to this."

"I know. Imagine having to do a proper job. Nine till five, stuck in rush hour traffic every morning and evening. No excitement, no adventure. No tropical island."

"We're not so badly off really," Scott agreed.

The door slid open and John poked his head in. "Emergency," he announced. "Forest fire."

"On my way," Scott said, sliding his legs off the bed.

"Not you, Scott," John said. "Dad wants you to sit this one out."

"But-"

"No point arguing," Virgil told him, heading for the door. "Anyway, trouble comes in threes, remember. The last thing we need is for you to set One alight as you land."

"Cheer up," John said. "Just make sure you're fit for the next rescue."

"Oh, I will be," Scott said. He stood up and moved towards the door.

"Dad said you couldn't go, Scott."

"I'm not leaving the island," Scott said. "But I'd better let Brains get the bed ready for whichever one of you comes back with an injury."

John and Virgil stared at him, both with expressions on their faces that suggested they were utterly offended at this slight on their abilities, not to mention more than a little hurt. Scott laughed. "Want to put some money on it?" he asked.

There was a pause before his brothers shook their heads and backed quickly out of the door.

Scott turned to Brains who had just come out of his prep room. "Brains? Up for a bet?"

"N-no, thank you, S-Scott. I-I k-know a l-lost cause when I s-see one. C-could you do me a f-favour?"

"Sure."

"P-pick me up s-some of that b-burn cream from the s-store room. T-two jars, m-maybe."

Scott laughed. "Am I free to go?"

With Brains' agreement he headed out of the door. A quick detour to the kitchen to pick up a snack - maybe two - he thought, then he'd make the most of the afternoon sun out on the terrace. Kansas had been chilly and he was more than happy to be back on the island. A quick swim to cool off - nothing too strenuous given the state of his shoulder - then he'd join his father in the lounge to follow his brothers' progress, by which time dinner would be ready...

Yes, Scott thought, he liked being a Tracy. Okay, so the family might have more than their fair share of drama, but as Virgil had said just the other day: what was life without a little excitement?

He wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
